O Brother, Where Art Thou?
by Supervillegirl
Summary: The Winchesters thought they were protected with the tattoos now. Will they end up killing each other?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Set between 4x04 and 4x05

Dean Winchester snapped awake and glared up at the monster that had interrupted his sleep. A monster named Sam Winchester. Sam laughed as he climbed into the passenger seat of the black 1967 Chevy Impala.

"Dude, haven't you ever heard of a simple knock?" Dean asked his younger brother.

"Where's the fun in that?" smiled Sam.

"Why are you back early?" asked Dean. "I thought you'd be in research mode for at least another two hours."

"I caught a break," Sam told him. "I'll tell you about it at the motel."

"Alright," said Dean. He started the engine and pulled away from the curb.

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Sam plopped his backpack on his bed as Dean shut the motel door. Sam flopped down onto the mattress.

"So, what'd you find?" asked Dean.

Sam poked his head up, a quizzical expression on his face. "What?"

"The case, Sam. What'd you find about the case?"

"Oh, that," said Sam as he stretched his arms behind his head. "Nothing."

Dean looked at him. "Nothing?"

"Yeah, Dean, nothing. Hit a dead end."

"You said you caught a break."

"Did I?" Sam asked, strangely calm. "Must've been mistaken."

Dean stared at Sam. "Are you okay?"

"Fantastic," Sam breathed.

Dean began unloading his duffel to clean his weapons, putting his flask of holy water on the table. As Dean began taking his .45 apart, he glanced up at Sam and froze. Sam was watching the flask of holy water intently, almost with fear. Dean remembered back to when they had entered the room. Sam had come in first, but only after the door had swept some of the salt away.

"Sam," said Dean. Sam looked over at him. "Let me see your tattoo."

Sam sat up. "What?"

"Your tattoo. Let me look at it."

"Why?"

"Dude, let me see it."

Sam sighed in annoyance and stood up. He pulled the collar of his shirt down to reveal the demon protection tattoo under his left collarbone. It was broken right down the middle by a pretty nasty burn. Dean's eyes shot up to Sam, who smiled as his eyes turned black, and he punched Dean, knocking him out.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Sam sat at the desk at the library, finishing up his research. He felt a hand clap his shoulder and spun around to see Dean smirking at him.

"Dude, don't do that," said Sam.

"Hey, I can't help it if you're deaf, bro," said Dean. "What'd you find?"

"A lot," Sam told him. "Come on, I'll tell you about it on the way back to the motel."

Sam grabbed his backpack and followed Dean out of the library. Outside, Dean began walking down the sidewalk.

"Where's the Impala?" asked Sam.

"At the motel," Dean answered. "I felt like a walk."

"Really? You?"

"Why? Is that wrong?"

"No, it's just…you're not really a 'take a walk' kind of guy."

"Well, people change."

"You don't."

"Bite me."

Sam looked at him. "Whatever, man." He followed Dean down the street. They were headed for a warehouse. "Dude, where are you going?" asked Sam.

"What?" asked Dean.

"The motel's that way." Sam pointed down the street to their left.

"Oh, yeah," said Dean. He chuckled to himself.

"Are you sure you're fine?"

"Why wouldn't I be, Sam?"

"No reason," said Sam. He watched Dean out of the corner of his eye for a moment. He slipped his flask of holy water from his pocket, and sprinkled some on his hand. "Man, you must be really drunk to forget where the motel is. Come on." As he slipped the flask into his jacket, he subtly placed his wet hand at the base of Dean's neck to guide him down the street.

Dean yelled in pain as smoke curled from under Sam's hand. He flung Sam off of him and smirked at Sam, eyes black.

"How?" asked Sam. Dean lowered the collar of his shirt to show Sam the tattoo broken by a burn. Sam shifted his gaze from Dean to the empty warehouse behind him. He landed a punch to Dean's jaw, knocking him out.

(A/N: It seems very confusing now, but stay with me. It gets better.)


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Dean came to in the motel room. He was lying on the floor next to the bed. He raised his head to see Sam leaning against the wall with Dean's .45.

"Up 'n' atem, sunshine," said Sam, his eyes flashing black. "Time to join the living."

"You son of a bitch," Dean growled.

Sam's face took on a look of mock hurt. "Oh, Dean, that hurt."

"I'm gonna hurt you a lot more."

"No, you won't. Sammy's still in here." The demon smiled. "And he's scared." His face slipped as he let Sam out slightly.

"Dean!" Sam called. "Help me! He's too strong. He's winning. I can't fight him!" Sam's face calmed as the demon took over.

"I'm gonna kill you!" Dean yelled.

"Sounds like a plan," said Sam. He spread his arms. "Go ahead. Oh, wait—" his brows knitted together, thinking, "you don't have the Colt for a flesh wound to get me out, the knife will kill Sam, an exorcism won't work since I used a binding link…" He smiled. "I think we've just run out of options."

"I don't care," said Dean. "I'm gonna save him."

"Like you saved him last time?" drawled Sam. "I doubt hell wants heaven's golden boy back down there."

Dean got up and faced Sam. "What's your plan, huh? Torture me? Kill Sam, what?"

"Nah," shrugged Sam. "I just wanna have a little fun."

He swung his arm around, but Dean blocked the blow, dodging another one as he shoved his elbow into Sam's face. Sam reeled back, but lifted his leg, connecting with Dean's sternum. Dean clutched his chest, heaving deep breaths as he ducked more punches. He shoved Sam off of him and lunged for the phone, picking it up and slamming it into Sam's head. Sam slumped to the floor and laid still.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Sam stood by the wall, watching as Dean began to stir in the devil's trap. Sam had dragged him to the warehouse and trapped him in a devil's trap.

"Oh, man," Dean muttered as his eyes opened. "You sure can pack a punch, _Sammy_."

"It's Sam," Sam growled at him. "Only _he _gets to call me that."

"But I am him," Dean smiled.

"No, you aren't."

"But he's still here…locked inside…living the nightmares he had in hell." Dean closed his eyes and sighed. "It's just too sweet."

"Let him go," said Sam.

"Or, what?" asked Dean. "You'll kill me? I don't think the angels will waste any more time bringing Dean back again."

"Who said anything about killing you?" said Sam.

Dean's smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth. "Go ahead. Give it your best shot. I've got a binding link protecting me."

Sam smiled. "That may work in the minor leagues…but not with me."

Sam raised his hand towards Dean, his fingers stretching out to him. Dean's body froze as his torso convulsed. He opened his mouth, and black smoke slowly inched its way past his lips. Sam struggled and struggled, but he watched in dismay as the smoke zipped back into Dean. Sam lowered his hand, his eyes widening in shock, as Dean smiled.

"You were saying?" said Dean. He laughed. "What's the matter? Can't get it up?"

Sam walked over and punched him. "I'll be back soon. Don't even think about trying to escape."

Sam closed the warehouse door as he left. He walked down the street toward a diner called "Rickie's." He entered and sat down at the counter.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Dean hit Sam across the jaw. Sam just laughed all the harder.

"You know, I think Sammy's getting a concussion from all the abuse," said Sam.

"You're lying," said Dean. He had tied Sam to the room's chair in a devil's trap.

"Am I?" drawled Sam as blood began leaking out of his mouth and nose.

Dean grabbed his jacket. "I'm gonna clear my head. Don't you move." He turned the light off and locked the door. He got in the Impala and drove.

"What am I gonna do, Sammy?" Dean asked the empty car. His stomach rumbled, so he began looking for the nearest diner. When he found a place called "Rickie's," he parked and went inside. He sat at a booth by the door.

The waitress walked up. "What can I get for you?"

"How 'bout a beer?" Dean requested.

"Sure thing," she said.

Dean watched as she walked away, admiring her curves. She stepped behind the counter to take the order of a tall guy with shaggy brown hair. Dean did a double-take, staring at the man's back.

_No, it couldn't be,_ Dean wondered. _How did he get out?_

Dean jumped out of his booth and approached his possessed brother. He grabbed Sam by the jacket and spun him around on the stool.

"You son of a bitch," Dean growled at him. Sam's eyes widened as he looked Dean in the face. The look of shock was quickly replaced by one of anger.

"How the hell did you get out?" snarled Sam.

"Oh, I've got friends in high places," said Dean, thinking Sam was referring to hell.

"Not for long," said Sam. He swung a right hook at Dean, but Dean ducked, wrapping an arm around Sam's stomach and slamming him into the counter. Sam brought his knee up into Dean's stomach.

"Someone call the cops!" someone behind the counter screamed.

Dean stumbled back. _Man, this demon fights a hell of a lot like Sammy._

Dean kicked out, aiming for Sam's stomach, but Sam sidestepped him and shoved an elbow into his face. Dean's head whipped back with the impact, and Sam took that moment to kick Dean's legs out from under him. Dean fell onto the floor, his nose bleeding. Before he could get up, Sam kneeled over him and put a hand at his throat.

In desperation, Dean fumbled for his flask of holy water, unscrewing the cap. He flung the water in Sam's face, who slammed his eyes closed. As some of the water dripped back onto Dean's face, Sam stared at him, confused.

"You're not in pain," both of them said at the same time. They both frowned, and said, "What?"

Sam let Dean up, keeping his distance. Dean climbed to his feet, eyeing Sam warily. Sirens sounded in the distance.

"Let's take this out back," said Dean. Sam nodded, and they hurried into the alley behind the diner.

Sam watched Dean closely. "You're not a demon?"

"What are you talking about?" asked Dean. "You're the demon."

"No, I'm not."

"Well, you were."

"No, you were." Sam pulled down his collar. Dean's eyes widened; the tattoo was unbroken.

"Wait, that's not possible," said Dean. "There was a burn there, breaking it."

"No, that was you."

Dean pulled down his collar to show his tattoo, also whole. Sam stared in shock.

"What the hell is going on?" asked Sam.

"I don't know, but I left possessed you back at the motel," said Dean. "Come on, I'll drive you back there."

"Wait, you have the Impala?"

"Yeah."

"Possessed Dean didn't. That explains why."

They drove to the motel, still watching each other. Dean unlocked the door and flipped on the lights, stepping aside to reveal Sam still sitting tied to the chair. Demon Sam looked up and spotted Sam in the doorway.

Demon Sam rolled his eyes. "Aw, hell." Dean closed the door. "That didn't last nearly long enough."

Dean closed the door. "What?"

"You two weren't supposed to find each other this soon," said Demon Sam.

"What the hell…" muttered Sam.

"Exactly," said Dean.

Sam's eyes darkened. "I'll go get the other one."

"Here," said Dean. He tossed the keys to Sam. "Don't scratch her, bitch."

"Don't plan to, jerk."

Dean smirked as Sam left the room. He looked at Demon Sam. "Looks like somebody's plan is busted."

Demon Sam looked away. "Bite me."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Sam pulled up to the motel and parked the Impala. He walked to the trunk, unlocking it and opening it. He pulled Demon Dean out and put the blade of Ruby's knife to his throat. He opened the motel door, dragging Demon Dean into the room and shutting the door. Dean was sitting on one of the beds while Demon Sam was still tied to the chair under the devil's trap.

"How'd you get him here without him escaping?" asked Dean as he took his demonic double in.

Sam squirmed under Dean's gaze. "I, uh…drew a devil's trap on the roof of the trunk."

Dean stared at him. "What?"

"Ooh, ooh," Demon Dean laughed, smirking at Sam. "You're in trouble now."

Sam glared at him. "Shut up."

Demon Dean smiled. "Make me."

Sam shrugged and punched Demon Dean square on the jaw. Demon Dean went down to the floor. Sam pulled the other chair over under the second devil's trap Dean had drawn on the ceiling. He hauled Demon Dean into the chair, and he and Dean began tying him to it.

Demon Dean looked across from him at Demon Sam. "So they caught you, too, huh?"

Demon Sam clenched his jaw. "Yes."

"Sucks to be us," said Demon Dean.

Sam and Dean backed away from them.

"So, what's going on?" asked Dean. "You're not shapeshifters, you're not ghouls, and as far as I'm aware, no demon can transform themselves into other people. So, what gives?"

Demon Sam smiled. "We're you…from the future."

Sam stared at him. "What?"

"No, no, how 'bout this," said Demon Dean. "We're you from an alternate reality where you're demons."

"No, wait, I got one," laughed Demon Sam. "Lillith did a glamour spell to get us to look like you so we can throw you off your game."

"Oh, that's a good one," said Demon Dean.

Sam looked at Dean. "What the hell is going on?"

"I got no clue," Dean muttered.

Demon Sam laughed. "Oh, you chuckle-heads are too easy."

"I know, and they never learn, do they?" said Demon Dean.

"What are you talking about?" asked Dean.

"Why don't you get the door?" said Demon Sam. "He's real excited to see you."

Dean looked at Sam, pulling out his .45. He approached the door and swung it open. The brothers' eyes widened at the person standing outside the door, a face they'd hoped they'd never see again.

"Hey, boys," smiled the trickster. "You miss me?"


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Dean grabbed the trickster by the collar and pulled him into the room as Sam grabbed a blood-tipped stake from the bed. Dean slammed the trickster against the wall while Sam put the stake at its throat.

"You did this?!" Dean yelled.

"Guilty," said the trickster. "I couldn't resist. You two are so much fun to play with."

Sam raised the stake to plunge it into the trickster's heart, but a hand grabbed his wrist. Sam turned to see that their demon dopplegangers had escaped the devil's traps. Demon Dean began punching Sam as Demon Sam slammed Dean into the wall. Demon Dean pushed Sam, knocking his head into the corner of the table. The world went white.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Sam opened his eyes sluggishly, raising his head. He was tied to the chair his double had occupied. He looked across from him to see Dean tied to the other chair. Sam twisted his hands to loosen the ropes, but a sharp stab penetrated his left wrist, spreading from his hand to his elbow. He had a broken wrist…again…great…

"Sammy, you okay?" Dean asked. Some of the pain must've shown on his face, because Dean had his worried-big-brother look on.

"Broken wrist," Sam mumbled. "I'm fine."

"Not for long," said the trickster from the door. He was leaning in the corner, smiling at them. "Soon, you're gonna wish you were dead."

"What are you gonna do, huh?" asked Dean. "Kill me…again? Kill Sam over and over? What?"

"Oh, you're not gonna die," said the trickster. "You're gonna feel what it's like for your brother to torture you."

"What?" said Sam.

"Oh, come on," said the trickster. "Did you really think I'd leave you two alone? I thought you were the smart one."

"Hey," Dean protested.

"Enough of this already," said the trickster. "Let's get to the good stuff."

Demon Sam and Demon Dean materialized next to him. Demon Sam approached Dean while Demon Dean approached Sam.

Demon Sam's eyes turned yellow as he smiled at Dean. "See what you've done, Dean? If you hadn't made that deal, I'd be in a better place. But, no, you had to bring me back to fight with this thing inside me. Then you left me here…alone. Looks like I lost the fight."

"You're not him," growled Dean.

"But it could still happen," drawled Demon Sam. "I mean, you've been wondering it. Sam's different now, isn't he? He's not the same geeky little brother you left behind. Just what exactly has he been doing the past four months, hm?" Demon Sam grabbed Dean by his short-cropped hair, forcing his head up. "He's changed. He's embracing the evil within. Looks like Dean's gonna have to obey Daddy's final wish after all."

Dean glared at him. "Never."

"Then I'm afraid Sammy's doomed."

Demon Sam raised his fist and punched Dean.

Demon Dean walked over to Sam, his eyes turning black. "Why didn't you save me, Sam? I gave everything for you: my childhood, my life, my soul…and you couldn't even save me."

"I tried," Sam said, glaring at him.

"But you didn't try hard enough. No one gets out of hell without taking some of it with you. Think about it. Dean doesn't seem one-hundred-percent Dean anymore, does he? He's changed. It may only be a little…but he's not completely human anymore, is he?"

"You're wrong," Sam muttered.

"Which means that sooner or later, it won't be me standing here," said Demon Dean. "It'll be him."

Demon Dean backhanded Sam across the face. He punched Sam in the face and gut over and over, creating red welts on his face as blood flowed from his nose and mouth. Tiny cuts appeared on his face under the punches, and he surely had some bruised ribs.

Dean wasn't fairing any better. Demon Sam had also created bruises and cuts on his face, and probably his chest, too. Demon Sam was now digging into Dean's right thigh with a knife. Dean groaned in pain as the knife slid almost down to the bone. Demon Sam then grabbed a jar of salt, opening it and slowly pouring it onto the deep wound in Dean's leg. Dean's leg flinched as he yelled in pain.

Demon Dean grabbed hold of Sam's broken hand and slowly turned it. Sam slammed his eyes shut and groaned as the bone splinters stabbed his muscles and nerves. Demon Dean quickly bent Sam's hand at the wrist. Sam jerked in his seat as he yelled, darkness threatening to claim him.

Demon Sam took a crowbar from the heater, the end of it red-hot. He approached Dean, who squirmed in his chair. Demon Sam touched the hot metal to Dean's chest, smoldering through his shirt and onto his skin. Dean yelled as the smell of burning flesh filled the air. Demon Sam held the crowbar to his skin for about a minute.

Demon Dean grabbed a gun from the bed, pulling the safety back. He aimed the gun at Sam's shin and pulled the trigger. Sam yelled in pain as the bullet tore through his tibia. Blood ran down his leg as Demon Dean tossed the gun down. He knelt down at Sam's feet and dug his finger into the bullet wound. Sam cried out as he tried to move his legs against his bonds.

Suddenly, Demon Dean evaporated in front of Sam's eyes. Sam looked over at a battered Dean to find that Demon Sam had also disappeared. They looked up at the trickster and saw a stake sticking out of his heart. The trickster fell to the ground, revealing a man in a trench coat behind him. The man looked at them, and the ropes came off of the chairs.

Dean stumbled to his feet. "'Bout time you showed up, Castiel."

"Castiel?" Sam asked, wincing. Dean helped him to the bed. "The angel?"

"Yeah," said Dean.

Sam looked up at Castiel in awe. _So this was an angel…_ "Wow…it's such an honor to meet you." He held his hand out, and Castiel came forward, clasping his hand gently.

"Sam Winchester," said Castiel, speaking for the first time. "The boy with the demon blood."

Sam stared at him, stunned. Castiel slowly released his hand.

"Are you sure he's dead?" asked Dean. "'Cause he's pulled that trick before."

"Yes, it is him this time," said Castiel. He turned to Sam. "Why did you use your abilities?"

Dean turned to stare at him. "What?"

Sam ignored Dean's stare. "I had no choice. I tried everything: exorcism, burning the binding link. It was my last option. I was trying to save Dean. That's all that should matter."

Castiel stared at Sam, his face blank. "You are forgiven, Sam. Do not let it happen again."

Sam watched as the angel disappeared. Dean grabbed a plastic bag out of his duffel, pouring their medical supplies onto Sam's bed. Dean knelt in front of Sam, who had rolled his bloody jeans leg up to his knee. Dean placed his hand on Sam's ankle to keep him still, and dug the tweezers into the wound. Sam's calf clenched as he grimaced in pain.

"Damn, that's really far in there," Dean muttered as he pushed deeper. He finally found the bullet lodged into Sam's tibia. "Brace yourself." Sam clenched his fist into the bedspread as his other hand clasped onto the knee of his wounded leg. Dean got a good hold of the bullet. "One…two—"

Dean pulled the tweezers out before he got to three. Sam hissed sharply as Dean threw the bullet on the floor. He pressed a stretch of gauze to the wound, absorbing the blood. He grabbed a needle and began stitching. Once the bullet wound was closed up, Dean grabbed a brace from the bed.

"I need something to splint it until we can get to a hospital for a cast," said Dean as he began searching the room.

"Use one of the silver knives," said Sam. "Wrap the blade."

Dean grabbed a small knife from the collection of weapons on the floor and headed to the bathroom. He wrapped the blade in toilet paper and placed it in the brace. He came over to Sam, who gingerly held his arm out. Dean placed the brace on Sam's wrist, positioning the knife on the underside of Sam's arm. He tightened the straps on the brace and fastened them.

"Alright, you good?" asked Dean.

"Yeah, I'll be fine till the morning," Sam answered.

"Good, 'cause I gotta wash the salt out of my leg," Dean groaned as he headed for the shower.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Sam woke up to a throbbing leg and a stabbing wrist. For a moment, he thought that was what had awoken him. Then he realized it was the yells coming from Dean's bed. Sam jumped up and limped over to Dean's bed. Dean was in the throes of a nightmare, tangled in his blankets and trying desperately to free himself. He struggled against the sheet wrapped tight around him.

Sam kept his broken wrist tucked to his chest as he approached his brother. "Dean, wake up." Sam placed his right hand on Dean's shoulder.

Dean flinched horribly at the contact. "No! Get away from me! Leave me alone!"

"Dean, it's just me!" Sam tried to assure him. "Wake up!"

Dean's eyes snapped open, and he looked into Sam's eyes. His eyes widened as he fought to get away. "No! Don't hurt me anymore! Please!"

Sam leaned forward, grabbing Dean by the shoulder. "Hey! It's me! It was just a nightmare!"

Dean stared at him for a moment before collapsing onto the bed. "Oh, gosh…Sammy…"

Sam pulled him into a one-arm hug. He felt Dean stiffen and then wrap his arms around him. "I'm here, Dean. I'm here."

Sam began to frown. _Did their attackers really get to Dean that much? He knew it wasn't really me, right?_

_*************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************_

Dean hung on the rack in this hellish—quite literally—place. One by one, his torturers approached him, malice in their eyes.

"No, please," Dean begged, over and over. "Don't…"

He couldn't stand another day of this. He wanted out; he wanted it to stop.

He cried out as the first demon dug into him. They were relentless: when one had had his way, the next would come. Thirty years had broken him into a sobbing wreck of the man he once was.

Dean cried as they whipped and carved, praying for a release…praying for Sam. The crowd parted, and a lone figure walked towards him. Dean stared up into his face as the man pushed the torturer away.

"Sam…" Dean breathed, a smile breaking on his face. He laughed in relief. His brother had come for him. But Sam wasn't unshackling him. Dean frowned. "Sam?"

Sam's eyes turned yellow as he picked up a knife.

"No…" Dean pleaded. _Not Sammy, no._ "Please, don't."

Sam smiled wickedly as he lowered the knife, slicing into Dean's stomach. Dean yelled as his brother tortured him for hours.

_Dean, wake up._

Someone grabbed him by the shoulder, and Dean bucked his body, trying to get away from his current torturer, but the shackles held him fast.

"No!" Dean pleaded with his demonic brother. "Get away from me! Leave me alone!"

_Dean, it's just me! Wake up!_

Dean winced. _No, it can't be you, Sammy. Fight it. Don't hurt me, little brother._

He opened his eyes to look at his torturer, spotting the yellow eyes. He tried to pull himself away, fighting with his bonds. "No! Don't hurt me anymore! Please!"

His attacker leaned forward out of the light, his eyes losing the yellow. A hand gripped his shoulder, pleading with him to be still.

"Hey! It's me! It was just a nightmare!"

Dean stared into his face, seeing his younger brother correctly for the first time. His eyes flicked to the street light pouring in through the window that had been on Sam's face a moment ago, playing with the hazel in his irises to make them look yellow. Dean collapsed onto the bed.

_It was a nightmare,_ Dean told himself. _It wasn't real. Just your torture incident mixing with your memories of hell._

"Oh, gosh…Sammy…" he muttered.

He felt himself pulled from the mattress and pressed against something soft and warm.

_What the fuck, Sam?_

As Sam used his good arm to hug him, Dean felt his tough exterior crumbling. Dean slowly embraced Sam, accepting the comfort his little brother was offering him.

"I'm here, Dean. I'm here."

Dean tightened his hold on Sam. "I'm sorry, Sammy. It was just a nightmare. It's just…when Demon Sam tortured me, he had yellow eyes. Just now…with the light on your face…it looked like…"

Sam pulled away, looking into Dean's face. "Hey, it wasn't me. I'd never hurt you."

"I know you wouldn't," said Dean. He smiled. "At least we don't have to worry about that trickster son of a bitch anymore."


End file.
